Falling
by Goten0040
Summary: Yamcha swore they fell out of love. No matter how much she thought over the words, she couldn’t put together how he could think that. That is, until she realized what love really felt like. VegetaBulma REVISED
1. Chapter 1

Falling

((Summary: Yamcha swore they fell out of love. No matter how much she thought over the words, she couldn't put together how he could think that. That is, until she realized what love really felt like. VegetaBulma))

(A/N: Wow… a DBZ fic. That's incredible. How long has it been? Well, it never hurts to go back to your old school anime once in a while. Still, as uncreative as I tend to be, it's another VegetaBulma, 'what happened in those three years' fic, but I am taking a slightly different approach, and I don't know if this fic will be long. Add disclaimer here.)

**(NEW A/N: This fanfic has been revised. -Goten)**

Prologue

For a moment, the words didn't really sink in. She stood there, hands at her sides, silently going over each word in her head. She had never gone over three words so long in her life-she was sure of it.

"It's over, Bulma," she repeated in her brain, not sure as to what to say.

She looked up at Yamcha, confused, not sure what to say. His face was grave, as it had been in the many battles she had seen from the sidelines. Her eyes wandered around the area as rain clouds began to appear in the sky, strengthening her horrible mood.

"Wh-what do you… mean?"

"Bulma, how many years has it been now? How many years have we been playing this game of falling in and out of love? It's just become clear to me how… not in love we are! We're really good friends, and that's all. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"I… I don't know," she replied softly, staring down at her feet, knowing that his eyes would make her cry.

"It's over. We should just be friends," Yamcha put bluntly, with a comforting hand on the shoulder-contradicting his tone of voice.

She held it all back, and plastered a smile on that sullen face. Looking up, she beamed at him.

"Alright then. Just friends."

"I'm glad you understand," Yamcha said, giving her a hug, "We fell out of love… a long time ago, didn't we?"

"I guess we did," Bulma said, pulling away and turning from the man that she had dated since she was sixteen.

"I'll… um… see ya' around, then?"

"Sure," she replied, not turning to look back.

And she walked away.

Chapter One

A silence rang throughout the room. It wasn't normal. This silence was heavy and disturbing. It even disturbed Vegeta, who sat within this quiet in the living room. Bulma's parents' luggage was waiting by the door. They were leaving on vacation, just in case the Androids destroyed the earth. How faithful. They came back inside once in awhile to grab another suitcase, but they weren't the quiet ones.

Bulma, who was usually the loudest of all them-except Vegeta when he was raging-had gone to her room and not made a peep. He didn't care of course - he liked that she wasn't annoying him, and he had gotten all the training he wanted in that day - he was just slightly curious. He glanced toward the hallway that led to her room and workroom every once in awhile, but never saw a flash of that turquoise hair or those sapphire eyes. Then, he'd go back to his thoughts of the upcoming doom and of being a super saiyan.

"Bulma, we're leaving, honey!" Mrs. Briefs yelled down the hall in that high pitched tone.

After a moment or two, Bulma appeared from the hall and gave her mother and father a hug and a soft, seemingly fake, smile.

"Now, dearie, don't let Vegeta blow up the gravity room."

He twitched mentally.

"I won't, Mom."

"Oh, and," Mrs. Briefs winked at her daughter, "Don't you and Yamcha go fooling around while we're not here, eh?"

Her face changed for a split second and she nodded, "Don't worry about that, Mom."

Her tone had changed, but Vegeta, with his sharp saiyan ears, was the only one that seemed to have caught the change. He remained silent however as they left, leaving their daughter standing in the spot just beyond the hall. She didn't move right away, seeming to be in deep thought.

"They don't have much faith in us," he said out of nowhere.

She jumped, "Vegeta! I didn't know you were in here!"

"I've been sitting here the whole time."

"I thought you'd be training…"

"Well, without you _bothering_ me, I was able to finish up a lot quicker," he replied curtly.

"Oh," her voice trailed away.

"So why are you crying? Miss them already?" he taunted, knowing why she hadn't moved.

"Shut up!" she said in strained voice.

"You're not one to keep secrets. Obviously your parents have no clue you're upset. Did you do something Mommy and Daddy won't approve of?" he gave her that smirk as he stood, thrusting his hands into the pockets of the gray drawstring pants he wore with his navy tank top after training.

"No," she replied softly, "I just don't want them to know."

Vegeta was getting frustrated that she wasn't fighting his taunts like she normally did. He found her fiery attitude amusing, but she was just taking each one, blow for blow, like it didn't matter anymore.

"So they won't approve of it?" he replied flatly.

"No. I just don't want them to worry," Bulma said, glancing to the side.

"About WHAT exactly?" he raised an eyebrow, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"…" she remained silent, going over whether or not she should tell him, "Forget it. You wouldn't understand."

With that, she brushed past him without so much as a second glance. He stared after her for a second.

"Perhaps it's something that _I_ wouldn't approve of, this little _secret_."

"What do you care what goes on in my personal life?!" Bulma spat.

Vegeta glowered at her, "Don't speak to me like that."

"Forget it! Just… forget it!"

Bulma turned and stomped off. He felt enraged at her audacity, though he was used to it. His curiosity was still burning inside however, making the irritancy even worse. He growled and moved in the opposite direction, severely unsatisfied.

…

Bulma stumbled out of her room about three hours later, still not speaking the saiyan who had apparently offended her earlier. Vegeta grabbed a can of beer out of the fridge, popped the top, and sipped at it half-heartedly. Bulma grabbed a couple of plates and placed them on the kitchen table silently, then opened the fridge, looking for dinner. That heavy silence was riding on Vegeta's nerves again. Surprisingly, Bulma was the one that broke it.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't really care," Vegeta replied, leaning against a nearby wall.

"Well, I'm not all that hungry," she said.

"Fine," Vegeta said, irritated, "I don't know… order a pizza or something."

"Fine, I will."

Bulma went to the phone and ordered the pizza, still not sounding much happier than earlier, though her voice was more strained and hoarse. It only intrigued him more. Unbeknownst to her, Vegeta found her life quite intriguing and took time to listen to the things she went through, for he had never had a life like hers. He hadn't grown up normally. Her life was like a story - an overly dramatic story, but a story nonetheless.

"Vegeta?"

"What?" he looked up from his thoughts.

"What toppings do you want on the pizza?" she whispered, her hand over the receiver.

"Pepperoni, whatever," Vegeta replied tartly.

Bulma went back to her conversation. Vegeta watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying to read her facial features, because he knew that reading her thoughts was stupid, for she probably expected it. Her cheeks were tearstained and the edges of her eyes were red like the tip of her nose. Something was wrong - that was obvious. The problem was, he didn't know _what_,and that aggravated him beyond belief. Bulma placed the phone back on the hook.

"It'll be here in about ten minutes," she said.

"I know that. I'm not stupid," Vegeta growled.

Bulma gave him a sharp look then went to setting the table. Vegeta watched her for a few minutes with the layer of tears over her eyes, sighed, and went over to her.

"Let me help," he said reluctantly, sighing, pouring each of them a drink.

"Thanks," Bulma said, taking her seat across the table from him.

Silence ensued yet again. Vegeta felt a vein pop on his forehead.

"Alright, what's with all the quiet?!" Vegeta snapped, banging his fists on the table.

"I _don't_ want to talk about it." Bulma's eyes set ablaze momentarily.

"Tough! You're the only other person in this house, and it gets _kind of_ annoying when that only other person won't say anything!"

Bulma glowered over her glass, "It's _NONE_ of your business!"

"Fine! But you can't tell me that the silence isn't irritating _you _too!"

"If I told you, you'd laugh at me!" Bulma yelped, tears glistening at the rims of her eyes.

He stared at her momentarily, waiting for her to chuck something at him, but she didn't. She collapsed back into her chair and stared into her lap.

"If it really matters, Yamcha and I broke it off." She gave in.

"It?"

"Our relationship! It's over, okay?!"

A small pang of guilt hit him.

"Why?" he asked, confused.

"I guess… we just fell out of love," she said, staring into the distant nowhere.

"I see. Well, that's why I don't fall _in_ love, so I don't have to fall out of it. Besides, love is for the weak. If you are truly strong, you can depend on yourself," Vegeta said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, sometimes I wish I was like you, Vegeta. Maybe I'd be a lot happier."

"Well, I wouldn't be positive of that…" After all, happiness wasn't Vegeta's main concern.

"So you've never been in love, Vegeta?"

"No, I… can't say I have," Vegeta replied awkwardly at the strange topic.

"That's why I told you you'd never understand. It's hard to let love go…"

"But you fell out of it. Why is it so hard?"

"Because… well, I don't know. I'm not sure if _I_ was the one to fall out of love. Perhaps Yamcha was the one to fall out, but we've been on and off for so many years, I guess I should have expected it. Still, it hurts to not have that feeling…"

"Feeling?" his voice came before he could stop his intrigued tone.

"Yeah," Bulma continued without realizing his interest, "Love is such a wonderful feeling. It's just mixed all together like crazy, like… you're so happy with what you've found but you're so scared that you might lose it at the same time. You're just so overcome with joy that you feel like crying. It makes you feel warmer and brighter and just like the world is actually perfect for a few moments in time…"

She seemed to be in bliss at the topic of love. Vegeta remained silent, listening with every fiber of his being, but still keeping his normal look. The doorbell rang. Bulma gave a warm smile to Vegeta.

"I hope that you fall in love one day, Vegeta. It's such a wonderful feeling."

She moved out of the kitchen to the door. Vegeta stared at the empty doorway where she had been just seconds ago, her words sinking in.

"But I don't have time for that," Vegeta thought, "I've got training to do."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The night came and went as it always did, and Vegeta was up, bright and early -well, perhaps not bright, but early enough - and training. By seven o' clock, he was drenched in sweat and the gravity room was creaking under the pressure of four-hundred times the normal gravity. It was then that Bulma came on the large screen to his right. Vegeta scowled, prepared for her yelling, but was pleasantly surprised after a moment.

"Aren't you hungry? Breakfast is ready if you want some," her voice was still slightly sad, but she seemed to be trying to look better. Her face had a bit more color, but it looked like makeup.

Vegeta blinked at the screen, his muscles wrenching horribly under the strain. He slowly moved to the panel and shut down the gravity, feeling instant relief.

"Alright then," he replied, eager to fill his stomach.

Upon entering the kitchen, that nasty, foreboding silence crept over him once again, making him uncomfortable. He sat across from Bulma, as he had the night before, and began to chew on the breakfast she had made. It wasn't great, but good enough to give him energy. It took a moment to realize that she was staring at him.

"What?" he asked, swallowing.

"How are you so cold, Vegeta? I want to be like you."

"Just because he broke your heart doesn't mean you can go off stealing _my_ attitude," Vegeta said darkly.

Bulma stuck out her lower lip slightly, "But I don't want to fall in love anymore!"

"Why not? You seem to like it enough."

"I'm tired of getting my heart broken!"

"You had it broken _once_," Vegeta replied venomously, "You should feel lucky for what you have, spoiled brat."

"What?"

Vegeta felt no need to repeat himself and went back to shoveling eggs into his mouth, angry at not only her, but himself. Bulma watched him for a moment, curious yet slightly hurt. Vegeta felt her eyes on him and swallowed his last bite a bit more slowly. His eyes trailed from his plate up to her, making contact with her misty pupils.

"It's not the end of the world," Vegeta said, "Move on."

"That's why I want to be like you!" Bulma exclaimed, "You can take things blow for blow then walk away like nothing ever happened!"

Vegeta's eyebrows lowered, "I _know_ it happened. I just _move on_, just like you should. That's what fighters do."

"B-but… I can't!"

"And why not?"

"I… I can't. I just can't," Bulma stood, her pupils raised to the ceiling to prevent tears from falling, then raced from the room.

Vegeta cursed and went after her. He hated weaklings, and, damn it, he wasn't going to sit around with one all month. He was going to end this stupid relationship issue, once and for all. He followed Bulma into the hallway and nearly crashed into her. She had halted in the middle of the hallway, sniffing and shaking slightly in the shoulders. She turned to him, teardrops sliding down those cheeks, making her eyes even bluer than they actually were. Vegeta couldn't find any words.

"He fell out of love with me, Vegeta… but… I… I know… that I still love him," she began to sob, pressing the backs of her hands to her eyes.

Vegeta actually felt a bit guilty, though he made no move to show it, "You're too caught up with this idiot."

"He was _my_ idiot!" Bulma wailed.

"Oh, come _on_! That doesn't make any sense! If he's so dumb then why do you like him so much?! He's a waste of time!"

"I don't know! I just… do. It's just one of those feelings you develop!"

Vegeta crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you even know how love _really_ feels?"

"What?! Of _course_ I do!"

"Uh huh… so tell me, Bulma. Have you ever been with anyone _but_ Yamcha?"

Silence.

"… N-no," Bulma whispered, not looking up.

"That's what I thought," Vegeta said darkly, crossing his arms, "Seems to me that even someone like _me_ knows more about that frivolous little emotion than you do. You should sit down and think about it, eh?"

Bulma ran the back of her hand over her eyes, wiping away tears of realization and regret. She nodded shakily, but never made eye-contact. Vegeta felt a pang of guilt, which made his fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to her, but he squeezed his hands into fists to prevent it, telling himself that this was for her own good and that he shouldn't care anyway. Bulma stumbled down the hall, sniffing as she disappeared into its dark depths. Vegeta scratched the back of his head, then set off in the opposite direction to train.

By the time dinner rolled around, Vegeta was starving and running low on energy. He stepped out of the gravity room, feeling a large relief that he was no longer under four-hundred-thirty times the normal gravity (on the inside, he celebrated the fact that he was getting better). His eyelids were heavy and he had a bit of a drag in his step. He knew that a long shower and a full night of sleep would be really great if he managed to get a good meal. He opened the door to find the house quiet, yet smelling strongly of freshly cooked food. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his work-out jacket and moved toward the kitchen.

Bulma had just finished setting the table when Vegeta walked in. She looked exhausted, probably from crying. He was actually surprised she even cooked for him. He expected her to, if anything, be on a rampage. He sat down in silence and examined the food. Bulma had made him a basic cuisine-nothing her mother wouldn't usually make. It smelled good; Vegeta decided it was perfectly acceptable and ate it quickly and quietly. After dinner, Vegeta took his plates to the sink, a task he didn't usually perform, but he was feeling a bit guilty so he took care of this. If she asked him to wash them, however, he'd refuse.

She didn't ask. She just washed and rinsed the plates in silence. He could tell that she wasn't mad at him, but overly disappointed. She had to accept that he was right sooner or later. She was way better off without that idiot Yamcha in her life. It was just making _his_ life hell. She placed the dishes where they belonged and dried off her hands, still silent, and she turned and headed for her room. Vegeta's fingers twitched again, but he let her go. Such a quiet house was disturbing. Bulma was always yelling or laughing about something, and this voiceless faze was a bit disconcerting. He'd never been around her in silence. Yes, this was definitely new, but he didn't complain, nor did he do anything about it. After all, he was Vegeta, not Kakarot or anyone of that stupid nature.

By morning, Bulma had stopped crying. Either she finally accepted it or had run out of tears to cry. Vegeta was leaning more towards the latter. His fingers seemed to twitch every time she passed him now, and it irritated him so much that he spent most of the day in the training room, skipping breakfast and lunch. By the time dinner came again, he was on the verge of collapsing. He had never trained so hard in his life - well, so far. He was sure he'd train even harder tomorrow. He wiped sweat away with a towel and staggered inside Capsule Corporation, his muscles shaking and his stomach grumbling violently. He wouldn't skip lunch or breakfast anymore, he decided. Bulma had cooked again, surprisingly, and they had yet another silent dinner. Vegeta was too tired to talk anyway.

He still put his plate in the sink and headed toward the door when Bulma finally piped up in a hoarse voice, "Thank you."

"What? For the plate?" Vegeta asked, confused.

Bulma just stared at him, glassy eyed. Her voice replied _yeah_ but her eyes were saying otherwise. This had nothing to do with that insignificant plate. She turned away and began scrubbing the plate with great fervor. It seemed she got things off her mind the same way he did - working until dropping. Vegeta had begun to notice a lot of new trinkets Bulma had built showing up around the house. Still, he wasn't wanting her to end up like him. If she started acting like him it would get on his nerves. It would be fake. At least, that's what he thought he would hate about it. Bulma put the dishes away as Vegeta took a seat on the couch. The living room was dark and relaxing. He could have slept right there. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his neck. He froze, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry for being so stupid," she whispered.

Vegeta said nothing. He wanted to say _you should be_ but it didn't seem to come. He was speechless. The last time anyone had come this close to him physically, it was certainly not for a loving purpose. Vegeta shuddered at the thought of Freeza or Kakarot or even that little brat, Gohan, beating him into the ground. It wasn't a very welcoming thought. Bulma released him and stood, sauntering off to her room in her short pajama shorts and tank top and slippers. He watched her disappear behind a curtain of darkness and decided a shower was in order.

Steam rose throughout the bathroom as Vegeta turned the knobs to a hot and cold combination that he liked. He pulled off his clothes and stood for a moment, trying to understand why she had done that. Nothing came and he stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water sting his skin then seep in soothingly. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of it, cleaning himself off. He hated to admit it, but this shower was definitely a good thing about living in Capsule Corp. It was quite a luxury compared to the gruesome, sweaty, smelly men that hung around Freeza's ship or on his native planet.

After a long shower, Vegeta dried off and put on a pair of pajamas, dark blue, courtesy of Capsule Corporation. He stepped out of the bathroom, the cool air hitting his face like a breeze. He let out a long sigh, moving down the hallway. He was tired - God he was tired - yet he couldn't seem to tell himself to go to bed. Not yet. He glanced at Bulma's door. His fingers twitched again and he cursed to himself.

"Damn it, Vegeta," he murmured, turning to his own room and closing the door.

He lay in bed and shut his eyes tight. His body was thanking him for lying down, un-tensing and seeping into the mattress. His brain, however, was racing. He rolled over two or three times, trying to go to sleep, but his mind would not let him. If only he knock himself out!

…

The alarm was ringing. Vegeta opened his eyes slowly, glowering at the red numbers that read four a.m. _I need to get up and train,_ he told himself. He'd only been asleep an hour. Thoughts of the blue-haired woman plagued his mind. Vegeta gave the clock another exhausted glance, the annoying beeping filling his ears. At last, Vegeta betrayed his overwhelming pride and turned off the alarm. He was asleep again within seconds.

…

Bulma turned on the screen to the gravity room. "Vegeta-"

Vegeta wasn't in the gravity chamber?!

_No! What if… what if he left?! Did I do something wrong?!_

Bulma's eyes began to water again. If Vegeta left, she'd be all alone. She couldn't stand to be alone. She choked on a sob and quickly headed toward the phone, hoping her parents would be willing to come home. On her way, however, she crashed into the very man she thought had disappeared. She glanced up.

He eyed her awkwardly. "Why are you crying _now_?"

"I… I thought you left…" she choked, wiping away new tears.

"You act as if I have anywhere else I can go," Vegeta replied, rolling his eyes finding her tears ridiculous and unnecessary.

"B-but you weren't in the gravity chamber and…"

"I slept in today," he replied.

Now it was Bulma's turn to eye him. "Why?"

"I was tired," he responded flatly. "I don't know why me leaving would hurt you so much anyway."

"I… thought it was my fault, and… I didn't want to be alone."

"You're a weakling," Vegeta replied, though his tone was not as condescending as they usually were. "What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes and eggs, as usual."

He shrugged and moved into the kitchen, looking a bit… well, more cheerful than usual. Of course, sleeping in did everyone some good once in awhile. Bulma sat down at the table. Both she and Vegeta ate quickly. Vegeta took the plates to the sink and left them. Bulma, to his surprise, left them alone as well and joined him in the living room. For some reason, training didn't appeal to Vegeta at the moment. He wanted to rest. Perhaps he overdid it the day before.

Bulma joined him on the couch and turned on the television. Vegeta stretched and yawned, leaning against the couch cushions, comfortable. Bulma had begun to smile a bit again, though her eyes were still poignant. Vegeta found his eyes following up her legs that were almost completely exposed with such little shorts. He caught himself and quickly averted his eyes to the TV.

"Problem?" she asked.

"Tch, no." Vegeta growled.

"I… um… I'm sorry about last night. I violated your personal space," Bulma murmured.

"Forget it."

"No! I want to apologize!"

That was the Bulma he knew.

"It was stupid!" he retorted.

"Yes, but it was wrong for me to do that without asking. It violated your personal space and I shouldn't have done it!"

"You don't know that you violated my personal space!"

"But I'm positive that I did!"

"No, you didn't!"

The argument halted. Bulma smiled, her face lighting up.

"Really?"

"It was just a damn hug," Vegeta muttered, more quietly, not looking at her.

This woman would be the death of him.

…

Vegeta trained the next day. It was Hell. Five-hundred times the normal gravity. By the time he finished, he felt nauseated and exhausted. He trudged into Capsule Corporation, arms nearly dangling from his shoulders as if they were no longer part of his body. He nearly collapsed to the couch, not caring whether he ate at the moment or not. He embraced the living room's darkness, falling asleep quickly.

Bulma walked into the living room and halted, seeing the sleeping saiyan sprawled out on the couch, looking very worse-for-wear. She leaned over him, looking at that child-like face. She was sure that was the only bit of childhood he had left, with the exception of his selfishness and stubbornness.

"Vegeta?" she whispered, giving him a soft nudge.

He grunted and opened one eye slowly. "Mrm," his voice was muffled against the couch cushion.

"You should go to bed," she said softly.

"Mrm," he returned tiredly.

"You know," Bulma said, grabbing his arm and pulling him from the couch, "If you didn't push yourself so hard, you wouldn't be so tired."

"Don't tell me what to do," he answered back in a low voice, rubbing his eye with the bottom of his palm.

"Just a suggestion," she said, placing a hand on his face.

Her hand was cold, nearly relaxing him. He felt his eyes growing heavy, his soul comforted by the simple gesture. It was a first for him, that was for sure. He caught himself however, and pulled away.

"I'm going to bed," he said quickly, standing.

The world spun for a moment. He'd gotten up too fast. He covered it with a stretch and walked away, making sure not to seem too flustered.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered to himself, closing the door behind me.

He meant it in more than one way.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Vegeta awoke the next morning, a heavy pounding in his head that pumped through his veins. His room was sweltering. His eyes rolled around the room, looking for the source of this overwhelming heat, being that his blanket had been shoved aside. He sat up slowly and his head spun. He grasped his forehead, his stomach turning over. He swallowed a wretch and then decided to try standing. This time he had to grasp the wall. It felt like the room was the gravity chamber, even though he knew it wasn't. He reached for the doorknob, and swung the door open with a force. He could hear the TV sounds in the living room and he knew he'd slept in again. Bulma was awake.

He kept his hand against the wall, approaching the living room to see her sprawled on the couch, flipping channels, looking bored - an emotion he hadn't seen on her face in awhile. He blinked slowly, taking her in a bit before deciding on his training. He couldn't miss more than one day. He had to become a Super Saiyan. He'd wasted time the day before yesterday, and he was beginning to regret slacking off. He really could have used it today. He put on his workout clothes and passed Bulma without a word.

The moment he turned on the gravity chamber, Vegeta knew he'd made a grave mistake on even attempting to train. It pulled him down to the floor and his hand slipped from the controls. The three-hundred multiplication of gravity that felt like nothing days before now felt like it was crushing him.

"Fuck!" he hissed, attempting to pull himself up shakily. He was too weak. That bothered him greatly.

_I can't be weak. I… I have to be a Super Saiyan. I have to be better than Kakarot!_

And somehow, he managed to stand up. He stared at the controls, feeling the weight pulling on him strongly, knowing he had a decision to make. Either give up and rest… or train. He clenched his jaw and with a shaky hand… formed a fist… and began punching the air.

"I have… to be better… than Kakarot…"

…

Bulma had heard Vegeta step out the door and walk toward the gravity chamber, but hadn't said anything. Something told her he wasn't going to say anything either. Perhaps she'd been a bit too touchy-feely the night before. Vegeta wasn't good with stuff like that. But she couldn't help it! She was vulnerable, and he was the only one in the house! _Well, at least he's being nice back… well, kind of._ About an hour later, however, she had a worried feeling in her gut. It made it hard to concentrate, being that the last time she had that feeling, the gravity chamber exploded. _Come to think of it… Vegeta's attitude changed a little after that…_

She stood and headed outside. The more steps she took toward the gravity chamber, the sicker she felt. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. She didn't care how paranoid she'd been lately.

"Vegeta?" she called through the door. "Vegeta!"

No answer. Though she didn't expect one. She rushed back inside to turn on the screen to see if she could make communication that way.

"Vegeta?!" she yelled through the screen, it lighting up to show the gravity room.

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she focused the camera around the room, looking for him. _Where… where is he?_ And something told her to focus on the floor. The camera panned down slowly… and found Vegeta crumpled on the floor.

"Vegeta!" Bulma screamed, hands flying to her face.

She raced out to the chamber and grabbed the door handle. _Open… open!_ She yanked the door free from the hinges. The pressure of the gravity chamber felt like heat, pulling against her from the inside. She could hear the mechanical voice come over the intercom: _Gravity Sequence… Terminated._ The machine shut down and she clambered inside and crawled over to the lifeless from of the Prince of all Saiyans. She shook the man, crying his name in hopes he would awaken. His eyes opened in small slits and his pupils rolled exhaustedly to her.

"Vegeta, are you alright? Answer me!"

His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp again.

"Vegeta! Vegeta! VEGETA!"

…

_"Hey, Vegeta!"_

_Vegeta turned quickly. "Kakarot?!"_

_And sure enough, Kakarot was standing there with a stupid grin on his face and his hair spiked up in a yellow flash of color. Vegeta squeezed his hands into fists._

_"Isn't this cool, Vegeta? This power is amazing! You were right, a Super Saiyan IS powerful!"_

_Vegeta could feel himself almost shaking in rage, just staring at the man. "Go… away…" he managed, trying to keep from flying off the handle for some reason._

_"It's really too bad you're not a Super Saiyan, Vegeta. It's pretty awesome!"_

_Vegeta squinted his eyes shut, trying to ignore the berating._

_"Yeah, Vegeta. But third in line isn't SO bad."  
_

_Vegeta turned again. Trunks smirked at him, his hair flared out just like Kakarot's._

_"Yeah, third isn't SO bad, Vegeta."_

_Their words started to echo around him, concentrating on his name…_

And forming into a new voice… Bulma's voice.

"Vegeta? Vegeta?"

He opened his eyes slowly and found a blurry but clearing focus on the very woman who was calling his name. He was reminded of a time not too long ago when he'd awoken her sleeping on the edge of his bed, and it made him feel the same mixture of emotions. He was confused, relieved, among with other emotions that he couldn't quite understand.

"Vegeta," she said, with a mixture of fear, sorrow, anger, and joy upon her features.

He gazed at her through half-lidded, questioning eyes. She ran her hand across his cheek and it made him tense a moment, then she gave him a soft slap against that same cheek.

"Idiot," she said.

"What?" he said, offended. His voice was croaky and hoarse.

"You passed out. You shouldn't train when you're sick! You scared the hell out of me!" Another sheen of tears fell over her eyes.

Vegeta pulled himself up a bit, feeling his muscles ache under his body weight. "Why… do you care anyway?"

"Because I care about _you_!" Bulma cried out. "Why can't you understand that?!"

Vegeta felt taken aback by her words. Bulma actually seemed frustrated with her own question. Silence followed with Bulma confused with her words and Vegeta not finding any to say.

"…The doctor said… you were suffering from extreme exhaustion and stress. It gave you a fever and training didn't help you at all!" Bulma sighed. "I know what you're striving for… but… you can't kill yourself out there. That's not going to help you in the end." Bulma's hand finally left his face.

"You care too much," Vegeta stated, unsure of what else he could say. "You were afraid of me a year ago, and now…" _Maybe I've gone soft…_

"I didn't _know_ you a year ago. You're… different than what they see."

"Are you saying that because it's true or because _you_ want to believe it?"

Bulma's eyes were cast down for a moment, and Vegeta had a feeling she'd cave or stay silent.

"Because it's true," she said, smiling softly.

Vegeta was, once again, taken aback. It was his turn to look away. Staring at her made him feel guilty after her kind words. After all, he _had_ scared her…

"I'm… sorry… I scared you," he said, not meeting her gaze.

Bulma put a hand on his arm. "It's okay."

…

The next day, Vegeta felt better, but was pretty much on house arrest after his little episode in the gravity chamber. Of course, Bulma had to put the door back on it too…. _She was pretty strong to pull that door off. Maybe she's stronger than I thought._ Of course, the adrenaline rush she got when she saw that he was hurt probably helped. It was a little bizarre to him how much he had scared her, even if he had before. Of course, he'd felt a bit strange after that incident, and now, well, it just plain bothered him how much she worried over him.

Even worse, he'd _apologized_ to her over it. He _was_ going soft! Well, that was a long shot, but still, a year ago, he probably would have more than likely laughed at her tears before feeling a single twinge of guilt. _Come to think of it, that's a horrible thought. I don't know what she sees in me._ He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching her work from the front window.

She was winding a wrench around one of the door hinges, the door still laying upon the grass. She was bent over it, biting her lower lip in concentration. He took her in a bit, blue eyes intensely focused upon her work, shining with that intelligence that was much more than he'd ever seen in a woman. Her hair fell messily over her shoulders, turquoise spilling over pale skin. Her hair was much better in this new cut. That big poof of whatever she had before had annoyed Vegeta because, even as a Saiyan with hair that he had, he couldn't figure out for the life of him how the hell she got hers to do what it did. Then he caught himself staring and looked away quickly.

_Wait, why are you looking away? She didn't see you. You weren't staring anyway!_

This woman was getting the better of him. Maybe he was still delirious from the fever he'd had yesterday. Yeah, that was probably it. He stretched and decided he might as well go outside, maybe help. That would at least give him some exercise, and she couldn't refuse someone to do some heavy lifting. He pulled on some sneakers - his jeans hung over them quite a bit being he was short - and dusted off his faded gray t-shirt, then stepped out the door. She wiped sweat from her brow and glanced up from her work, her bangs sticking to her forehead.

"Oh, hey. Do you need something?"

Vegeta shrugged. "No, not really."

"Well, what do you want?" Bulma stood and Vegeta caught sight of her legs.

_Damn!_ She was wearing some khaki shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination - though he was certain he could imagine a _few_ things. He felt a blush trying to creep into his features, but he fought it away, then gestured to the door.

"Do you… want… any help?" He felt odd saying the sentence.

Bulma grinned, her eyes luminous in the idea. "Do you really want to help me?"

"I… guess…" Vegeta found himself almost pouting, shoving his hands in his pockets again.

"Well, I'm almost done here. How about you hold the door up while I attach it to the hinges again?"

"Okay," Vegeta said, picking up the door with ease.

Bulma sighed. "I should have had you pick the door up earlier."

Vegeta smirked. "You're the one that pulled it off. That took more strength than it would to pick it up."

He placed it in place of the doorway, holding it tightly to prevent it from moving. Bulma started to screw in the door hinges.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, her voice with a chipper edge that made Vegeta squeeze the door a bit tighter.

"A little," he responded, staring into the door, knowing she was on the other side.

"Well, you sound a little tired still. You feel weak at all?"

_You have no idea,_ Vegeta thought bitterly. "No."

Bulma looked around the door to give him a narrowed look. "You're not just covering it up, are you?"

"Bulma, I _swear_ that I am not feeling weak," Vegeta replied overdramatically, attempting to annoy her.

Bulma just shook her head, rolling her eyes. "There, I think I got it. Let me just check a few things."

The door gave a loud creak as Bulma reached around the top of it - he could see the tips of her fingers make contact with her side.

"Are you sure… you didn't miss anything?" Vegeta asked, eyeing the rickety door.

"I might have… missed a bolt or two…" Bulma sounded a bit nervous as well.

"What?" Vegeta's eyes widened. "And you just realized this?!"

"I'm sorry! You distracted me!"

The door gave a long groan, then fell towards Vegeta. Vegeta jolted, attempting to stop the door, but remember Bulma was on the other side, so he let it fall. Vegeta fell against the floor, followed by the door, which he pushed off of him, just in time for Bulma to take its place.

"Oh… um…" Bulma blushed a bright pink, realizing the position they were in.

"I-it's fine," Vegeta replied, almost just as embarrassed, but he hid it.

Bulma stood quickly, still bright pink and probably very warm in the face. "I'm so sorry!" She giggled uneasily.

"No problem," Vegeta said, ignoring her hand up and standing himself. "Let's fix the door."

They finished that particular job in silence.

(A/N: Okay, the fanfic's been revised AND updated, and I like it a whole lot more now. Expect a lot more updates from me now. It's summer and I have high speed and I'm ready to go! Woo! I DO suggest that if you haven't read the first two chapters before the revision, you go back and at least scan. It has been SO long since I did this. I'm sorry I took so long. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Bulma lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in silence. She couldn't manage to get herself to sleep - too many thoughts were running through her head. She rolled onto her side and sighed, feeling a bit too wrung out and hot and bothered. She kicked her blankets off and sat up. Vegeta had been plaguing her thoughts, which surprised her. _Why do I keep thinking of Vegeta?_ Perhaps it was the incident they had two days ago…. She wasn't afraid to admit that, embarrassing as it was, falling on top of Vegeta had left her… well… flustered. _I guess he's kinda cute… I guess. I don't know! I've spent half my life with freaks!_ Bulma could feel that squealing sound in her throat that she always choked on when she was younger.

She stepped out on her balcony, feeling the chill of night air against her bare legs and arms. Her hair caught a bit of the breeze and she sighed. _I… feel lonely._ She gazed out at the midnight horizon. _I wonder what Yamcha's doing right now._ That made Bulma feel like crying again. She hadn't thought of him in the past few days, but she had a feeling in her gut that he was happy with some new girl… someone prettier… smarter… nicer. _Oh, I was just a terrible girlfriend. It's not shock he fell out of love with me…_ She looked out upon the yard around Capsule Corp., feeling a bit more down than she did seconds ago. She turned and moved back inside, through her room, and into the hallway. She stared at Vegeta's door for a moment, then moved to the kitchen, where she poured a cup of stale coffee.

"It's not fair," she said to herself, sipping the coffee then wincing at its taste.

Her eyes were glazed over with a fresh layer of tears as she stood to pour the disgusting liquid into the sink, when the mug slipped out of her hands and landed on the floor with a loud crash. She let out a wail as the chips cut at her feet and she fell backwards and onto her behind. She stared at her feet, blood dripping from fresh wounds, feeling her heart slam against her chest. She buried her head in her knees and cried. Suddenly, the kitchen light flickered on in a bright white fluorescent color.

"What the hell?" a tired, grumble of a voice caught her ears.

She looked up at Vegeta, tears pouring down her cheeks. He stood in the doorway in his gray drawstring pants, gaping at her in a look of confusion. Realization fell over his features upon seeing the cuts on her feet.

"Damn, woman," Vegeta said, floating ever so slightly over the glass to the other side.

Bulma was too distraught to say anything. She just continued to sob. Vegeta sighed, frustrated, kneeling down beside her and pulling her back a bit on the floor, away from the shatters of the coffee mug.

"It's not _that_ bad," he said, rolling his eyes, examining her feet. "Stop crying."

"It… hurts…" Bulma cried, knowing what she really meant.

Vegeta pulled a few shards out of her left foot. "It won't forever," he said, sounding somewhat annoyed. "I'll take care of it, okay?"

Bulma leaned her head against a cabinet, feeling it starting to pound from weeping. The tears continued streaming, however. Vegeta plucked each shard of glass from her feet, then placed them delicately upon the floor.

"There." Vegeta looked up to see Bulma's head still buried in her knees, her hands gripping just below her kneecaps tight enough to leave red marks. His expression grew puzzled at the sight. "What?"

"It's nothing," Bulma sniffed, averting her sapphire eyes. "It's nothing."

Vegeta closed his eyes slowly, contemplating what to say, and finally decided on saying nothing. He picked her up suddenly, catching her off guard, floated across the kitchen floor and back into the living room. Bulma looked up at him, but he wasn't looking at her. He kept his gaze straight ahead as he moved down the hallway and back to her room.

"Where's your medical supplies?"

"I have some… in my closet."

Vegeta promptly dropped her onto her bed and disappeared from her vision in her closet, returning moments later with a first aid kit. After a minute or two, her feet were wrapped up and the bleeding was stopping.

"There."

Bulma stared down at her wrapped up feet, then back at Vegeta, like some confused child.

"What is it, damn it?!" Vegeta demanded, annoyed by her constant looks.

"Nothing!" Bulma screamed, a bit too harshly - her voice sounded hoarse.

_I wish daddy were here… or momma…_

"Look, I can't help you unless you tell me what the hell you want!" Vegeta's eyes were almost ablaze.

"I want my mom and dad!" Bulma cried, feeling like she was four again, then buried her face in her pillows.

"Spoiled little child…" Vegeta muttered, then with more volume, "They'll be back in a few days!"

He paused. "This… isn't about that stupid mug is it?"

Bulma remained silent. Vegeta huffed and left the room.

…

No, that coffee mug had nothing to do with her wailing. It was that fucker Yamcha. Vegeta clenched his fists. _I'm just about sick of that guy. I'm just about sick of her pining for him._ He practically slammed the door to his bedroom and ran both hands from his forehead through his hair. _I shouldn't care anyway. She's just getting in way of my training with all this whiny stuff. Enough. I've had enough. She'll have to get over this on her own and quit _bothering_ me with it!_

He lay down, but his sleep was disturbed for the rest of the night.

…

Bulma awoke late in the day, which was odd for her being that her inner clock usually had her up at six or seven. She sat up in bed and kicked her legs over the edge. Silently, she recalled the night before. _Oh…_She stood gingerly, paying close attention to the acute pains that zapped through them with each step. _Like the Little Mermaid almost…_Either way, she felt stupid for everything she did - from the shattered mug (which she realized upon entering the kitchen was _still_ shattered on the floor) to the crying her eyes out over nothing. _Oh, Bulma, you dolt!_ She cleaned up the mess.

The house was silent. She figured that Vegeta had taken her advice not to train long enough and had headed out to the gravity chamber to turn it up to eight-hundred or something. That, or maybe he was just mad at her for being a big baby and decided that she really wasn't one to protect, being she needed so much protecting. She stepped into the screening room and turned on the display to the gravity chamber. And, as expected, Vegeta was there, training. He hadn't even noticed the screen come on. Then she recognized a set of headphones in his ears, probably pounding music into his brain.

"Vegeta," she called through the screen. "Vegeta?"

He halted for a moment, pulling the earphones out of his ears and turning to the screen with a look of annoyance.

"What?" he snapped.

Bulma was taken aback by the attitude, being that he'd been somewhat more civil the past few days. Still, she swallowed and clenched her hands tightly.

"I just… um… well, I want to talk to you."

Vegeta crossed his arms, eyeing her, then walked over and turned off the gravity gauge - which read 850. "Fine. Make it quick."

Bulma rushed outside to the chamber and pulled the door open to find Vegeta leaning against the far wall of the giant orb. She sighed.

"I… I'm sorry… about last night."

Vegeta raised his eyebrows. "That's it?"

"Well… I just…"

"You interrupted my training to apologize," Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Jesus, you're so juvenile."

"What?" Bulma gazed at him, confused.

"Alright then, since you're here, allow me to tell _you_ something." He approached her with a fierce look upon his features that made her want to back away.

"S-sure. Go for it."

"Alright then. Listen close." He leaned in to her face to where they were nose to now. "Grow the hell up."

Bulma's face fell.

"You were crying for your damn mother and father last night! What are you, thirty? Consider yourself lucky for the crap that you have around here and that you didn't even have to work for it, spoiled brat! I'm sick of listening to you whine. I have things to do. There are _androids_ coming. And they're going to _destroy_ everything unless _I'm_ strong enough to fight them, and I can't _get_ there if I have to deal with your constant tantrums." Vegeta pulled away, eyes ablaze from his tantrums. "I'm sick of your little pity party. Go find someone who cares."

Bulma remained where she was. She was frozen in her spot, unable to do anything but gawk at the Saiyan prince. Vegeta just moved back to the gravity panel and stood, waiting for her to leave.

"What, are you going to cry now?" Vegeta barked at her.

Bulma shook her head softly, though she could feel tears welling in the bottoms of her eyes. "N-no. You're right."

Vegeta looked like he was about to argue, but the shock of her answer threw him and left him silent with is mouth hanging open. Bulma stared down at the floor.

"You've been right," she murmured. "But I can't help it. I'm not strong like you are. I… I don't have the strength to leave my comfort zone, and now… well, it's bit me in the face. I don't have the strength to deal with that either."

"To face a great battle, you have to go out and fight it," Vegeta replied almost bitterly, not looking up from the gravity panel. "You don't think I was just _chipper_ to face Freiza, do you?"

"No, I guess you weren't." Bulma stared at her feet again, blinking her eyes to prevent tears from dropping. "I was caught off guard though. I thought things were fine."

"You can't stand there stunned either," Vegeta replied, keeping his metaphor going.

"Well… I guess… I have a lot more to apologize for then, huh?" Bulma finally looked up, eyes glistening.

"You're damn right you do-" Vegeta froze, mid sentence, looking at her face.

His words were drained out of him. She really did look very sorry… and very hurt. Bulma gave a quivering half smile then turned around like she was going to leave.

"I-I'm… sorry, Vegeta… for all the trouble I've caused---" she moved quickly from the chamber and slammed the door shut.

Vegeta watched the door for a minute, expecting her to come back. She didn't. He turned the machine back on. If he went to check on her, he'd only be proving his point and helping her with that whiny attitude. He'd been far too lenient as of late. It was time she took some time to be a big girl. It wasn't his job to watch after her anyway. He put his headphones back in and proceeded with his training.

…

Night fell quickly over Capsule Corp., being that the sky had clouded up with thunderheads. Vegeta gave them a long look as he exited the gravity chamber, towel around neck. He shrugged them off and headed inside. The house was silent, much as it had been days ago. It almost gave him a chill to hear absolutely nothing on the air. He glanced around. Most of the house was dark.

"Bulma?" he called, curious and paranoid.

He stepped through the hallway to the back of Capsule Corporation, listening for anything. Bulma's door was closed, but the pile of junk outside of it threw him more.

"What the hell?" he questioned.

The pile consisted of the curtains that hung around her bed, happy, colorful picture frames, stuffed animals, and other things of the like.

"Bulma?" He decided to knock on her door, because the situation caught him as bizarre.

She opened the door so quickly, he almost took a step back.

"Oh!" she said. "I guess I should make dinner, huh?"

He was too busy looking past her to listen. Her room had been stripped of the teenager-like accessories that had adorned almost everything. It almost looked bare.

"I was… remodeling," she said. "I think… it's time for a change."

Her eyes were red, but they had a new light to them, Vegeta noticed. She tucked hair behind her ear.

"I think I'll paint it too. I'm going to redo the whole thing. I think… it's a good start."

Vegeta stared at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied, looking at the walls, which were bright green - a color he despised. "…Dark blue would be… nice."

She smiled.

(A/N: Wow, this chapter came together much faster than I expected. I like it. I do. It was one of my favorites to write so far. If anyone can guess what song I listened to through a lot of this chapter, you get a virtual cookie. J)


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